...When Every Day is Valentine's Day

Tomorrow is March 14th.  You may recall this day to be "Pi Day," and if you're still a student, you're especially excited to gorge on pie in math class tomorrow.  For me, however, tomorrow is the one-month anniversary of Valentine's Day.



February 2014

Now, before you think this is going to progress all lovey-dovey, let me briefly tell of some of the affectionate happenings in our household today.  Don't worry, I'll leave out all the common hitting/pushing/kicking incidents.

First Instance
Noah begins crying in pain.  I run over.  "Miri, what did you do to Noah?"  She responds, "I forked him."  Thankfully, the stab wound on his bare back was only minor.

Second Instance
Noah points at my stomach and says, "Big belly," with a big grin.  Then promptly leans over and bites it. 

Third Instance
At bedtime, we prepare the kids' toothbrushes with toothpaste, then they independently brush their teeth and, finally, we do a final thorough brushing.  As Nick was brushing Noah's teeth, he notices that he is, in fact, brushing his teeth with soap.  I shoot Miri a glare, to which she confesses, "Yes, I did put soap on Noah's toothbrush."  Oh, and please picture her saying this with a huge smile, almost as though she's fighting back giggles.

So, why does every day feel like Valentine's Day?  Because Miriam has been entirely obsessed with Valentine's Day ever since February 14th.  Every day, she gleefully approaches me with a "Happy Valentine's Day, Mom!" and hands me a "Valentine."  Today I got a Payless shoe ad.  She explained to me how my Valentine was special because it had lots of shoes.  Yesterday I got a toy or two that she pulled out of a purse.  Often, I get scribbles and drawings and "letters" that she reads to me.  And Mr. Copy-Cat is always just one step behind, holding up a random object to me saying, "Valentines!  Valentines!" 

My kids have been delivering these sweet Valentines to me nearly every day for a month, usually while I am preoccupied with a chore, annoyed with misbehavior, or exhausted with life.  It's been awesome to have that big love delivered by such little hands in a very real way every day.  What an image of the way God must be holding up Valentines to us in every moment of frustration.

Family Day at the Aquarium
March 2014

 P.S.  A daily Valentine from Husband would be quite the mood changer, too, wouldn't it?  (Hint, hint)

P.P.S.  Tomorrow isn't the 14th, is it?  Oops, one day off.  Time for bed.

 

...When You Feel Like a Loser

Start by taking this single-question quiz:

Do you think I feel like a loser because...
A.) I can't keep up with the dishes?
B.) The constant toys on the floor prevent vacuuming?
C.) I gained 8 pounds in one month? 
D.) Other

Correct answer: D
Although, A, B, and C are all true*, option D, "Other" is the best choice for the following reason: My daughter is always the winner. 

Depending on how well you know me, some of you may describe me as "competitive."  Others may choose to disagree with or qualify this descriptor.  Personally, I wish I could quantify it by listing my LTWP (life-time winning percentage, in case you didn't pick up on the acronym).  However, I would grant myself the permission to omit records of all games played on my 30th birthday, since there has to be some advantage to climbing that hill.

For the past two months or so, I have been mulling over another single-question quiz: Is my daughter inherently ultra-competitive, or has she adopted modeled behavior from someone?  Nature vs. nurture.  I'm leaning toward nature on this one.

Example 1
[During mealtime.]
Miriam: Mommy!  Who's winning?
Me: We don't race when we eat, Miriam.  You need to chew.
Shovel, gulp.  Shovel, gulp.
Miriam: I win!  I am the winner!  Noah is the LOSER!
[Victorious arm waving and shouting.]

Example 2
[While in the car, regardless of destination.]
Miriam: Mommy!  Who's winning?  Which car is winning?
Me: I don't know, Miri.  There are lots of cars going very fast.
Miriam: No, I am the fastest!  I am winning! (As she "drives" with her personal paper plate steering wheel from her car seat.)
[Upon reaching destination.]
Miriam: I win!  I am the winner!

Example 3
[While playing Hungry, Hungry Hippos.]
Miriam: Mommy!  Who's winning?
Me: Anyone can win.  Sometimes different people win.
Miriam: Look, I win!  You are the LOSER!
[Points at me and makes a pouting face, as if she is either mocking me or expressing the emotion I ought to feel.]

February 2014
Miriam cheating while competing with Noah in Hungry, Hungry Hippos
(I was the "loser" yellow hippo, before my self-worth couldn't bear to play any longer)

I could go on and on, but I think you get the point.  No matter what we do, my daughter (not I) turns it into a competition.  If I insist that I won something, she proceeds to explain to me that although I did win, she also won, and, "Mommy, when two people win, that is called a tie."  In fact, I'm getting so tired of hearing her proclaim herself the "winner" all day long, that I taught her the word "champion."  So, the bottom line is, that for twelve hours a day, my two-year-old daughter makes me feel like a loser.  Oh, my sweet revenge will come when Noah is able to beat her and call her the loser.

Though I'm embarrassed by her behavior, I am awfully proud of her competitive nature.  Goodness knows I've never modeled such arrogant mannerisms... I just wish she wouldn't legitimately beat me at Hungry, Hungry Hippos time after time.





* I have provided some photo evidence below.

If you chose option "A," you are right on target.  This is what I am ignoring in the sink right now in order to write this blog.  And the picture doesn't even include what's on the counter.

 

If you chose option "B," you have the right idea.  This is just one small corner of one carpet in one room of the house.  So, if you want the complete image, multiply by at least ten.

 

Lastly, if you chose option "C," just ask my OB.  Or my husband.  It's true: I gained eight pounds in one month, but will kindly spare you the picture.